


The key to my heart

by Doctor_Gabriel_Sherlock_Potter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Artist!Steve, Crushes, Dockworker!Bucky, Drawing, First Kiss, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Running Away, Sketching, au kind of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:05:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Gabriel_Sherlock_Potter/pseuds/Doctor_Gabriel_Sherlock_Potter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is exhausted after a long day working at the dock. He can't find the key to his flat, so he goes to his best friend Steve and fall asleep on the couch. While he is asleep, Steve draws him, but feel bad for doing so, because what kind of a creep draws his best friend without them knowing? And what will happen when Bucky finds the drawing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iknowthatweareupsidedown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iknowthatweareupsidedown/gifts).



It had been a tough day, tougher than usual. Bucky was completely exhausted and all he needed was to relax. Home was so chaotic since his roommates were so messy, but there wasn’t really much to do about it. He could go to Steve’s place though? It was always so nice and quiet? No, he wouldn’t want to bother him. His friend had other and better things to do than provide housing for Bucky.

So he began walking home and finally he reached the front door. He put his hand in his pocket. That was odd, he was sure he had put the key there. He started to frantically search in all his pockets, but there was no key to be found. He must have forgotten it in his locker at work, and today of all days where he just wanted to go to bed and sleep for 12 hours straight. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t retrieve his key now, because the docks would be locked until the morning. “Well isn’t that great” He muttered to himself. Maybe someone was home to let him in? He knocked on the door. No answer. He tried again, harder this time. Still no answer. Great, simply fantastic, they weren’t home. “C’mon” He exclaimed and kicked the door, what was he supposed to do now?

He knew from previous occasions that if his idiot roommates weren’t home now, they wouldn’t be until the morning. He really didn’t want to bother Steve, but he didn’t really have other choices, unless he wanted to sleep on the streets and that was not on top of his to-do list. So he began walking down the streets to Steve’s place. When he reached his destination, he re-evaluated his options; he could also just find somewhere else to spend the night, but right now he felt too tired to even walk. In the end he knocked on the door, hoping that he didn’t come at a bad time.

Steve was sitting on his couch, drawing random sketches, when he heard someone knock on his front door. Odd? He never really got visitors, apart from Bucky of course, but why would he be here at this time? Why would anyone be here so late at night? He decided that he might as well open the door to see who it was. 

Bucky had started to wonder what was taking him so long. Maybe he wasn’t home? But Steve was always home? He had just turned around, about to leave, having come to the conclusion that Steve had gone to bed, when he heard a voice behind him. “Bucky? What are you doing here?” He turned around and saw a confused looking Steve. “Ehm well I have locked myself out and my roommates aren’t home? So I wondered if..?” He had not taken into consideration how utterly bad he was at asking stuff from people, so he decided that a hasty retreat would be his best option “You know what? Never mind. I’ll just go to... Somewhere? Well anyway, see you Steve”

Bucky had already turned around on his heel, but before he had taken two steps, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Now Steve was quite a lot smaller than him, but he did have a firm grip, which made Bucky stay where he was. That and the other reason, which he never, ever mentioned for anybody, and even tried to hide from himself. 

“Where do you think you are going?” Steve asked, he was not going to have his best and only friend sleeping somewhere on the streets. “I was.. uhm?” Bucky tried to reply. “No you weren’t” His skinny friend said firmly. “You were going inside my flat and sitting down on my couch, you are exhausted Bucky.” And with that he gently, but persistently pushed him inside and down onto his couch.

“Thank you” Bucky said and rearranged himself more comfortably. “It’s fine, I could use some company anyway” Steve replied, “I am going to make tea” He added and went to the kitchen. When he left, Bucky looked down at himself and noticed his dirty t-shirt. He decided that he didn’t want to smear it all over Steve’s couch, so he pulled it off and sat back.

Maybe it was the heat in Steve’s flat compared to the cold chill air outside, maybe it was the feeling of being with someone who cared about him. Or maybe he was simply too exhausted to stay awake, because before the kettle even had finished boiling, Bucky was fast asleep on Steve’s couch. 

When Steve returned with two steaming mugs of tea, he saw Bucky fast asleep and a smile crept onto his face. So he was exhausted, the big idiot. He worked way too hard in Steve’s opinion and with those complete and utter morons he shared a flat with, he never really got to relax. Steve wanted to offer him to live in his flat so bad, but in reality he was too scared to ask. He was skinny and had no other talents than drawing and Bucky was muscular, hardworking and everything Steve would never be. He was surprised that Bucky was even his friend, and he was embarrassed about how many times he had wanted him to be something more. Steve cursed himself. First of all it was wrong. Wrong on so many levels. Second of all, Bucky was his friend. His only friend and jeopardizing that would be completely and utterly stupid. And finally Bucky was way out of his league. So Steve pushed the thought out of his head and sat down on the couch, careful not to wake Bucky.

He grabbed his drawing pad to try and distract himself. He picked up his pencil and picked up where he left before Bucky came, but he didn’t seem to be able to finish it. He ripped it out and threw it onto the floor, damn Bucky and his looks and perfection. 

His looks and perfection? Steve thought again and looked at his sleeping friend, noticing how his muscles and body just begged for him to draw it. He picked up his drawing pad again, Bucky didn’t have to know, he was asleep, what could it hurt to draw him? Just this once, he might never get the chance again.

Steve couldn’t remember having ever finished a drawing so fast, but after half an hour he was finished, complete with shading and all. He looked at the drawing; normally he would be very critical about his own work, always finding something to correct or improve, but this? This was some of the best he had ever made, because it was Bucky on the drawing. 

He looked at it again, considering what to do with it, when it hit him. He had drawn him. Drawn Bucky. Without Bucky’s consent. Steve felt like he had taken advantage of his friend, while he was sleeping and he felt absolutely disgusted with himself. He ripped it out and tore it apart, throwing it in the bin, before he went to his room and closed the door. What had he done?

 

It was Steve. His friend Steve. His best friend Steve. He had come to visit Bucky at the docks, but he didn’t know how dangerous it was. He hadn’t told Bucky he was coming, so he hadn’t had a chance to tell Steve about the safety rules, which was why he was now lying on the ground, trapped under one of the heavy machines they were working with. The driver hadn’t seen him, because he wasn’t supposed to be there, which meant that he had to stop suddenly, causing the entire machine to tip over and land on top of his best friend.

Bucky had run to his side, “Steve? STEVE?!” He yelled and pushed away the crowd of people, standing there doing nothing. He threw himself on the ground next to his friend and looked into those beautiful eyes, looking apologizing at him. “S-sorry Buck…” Steve muttered before closing his eyes. No. No no NO! Bucky hammered his hands on Steve’s chest, but it wasn’t working, Steve wasn’t waking up. He couldn’t be? He shouldn’t be! 

 

Bucky woke drenched in sweat and looked around. First confused as to where he was, but then remembering the events from the previous night. He was in Steve’s flat. Steve? Oh right, it was a dream. Just a dream. But it had felt so real? Bucky still felt the fear. The fear of loosing the only person he cared about. He often had these dreams. Never the same, but always about Steve getting hurt or dying.

He felt sick, so he grabbed the bin just in case. He didn’t want to throw up all over Steve’s couch. This was when he noticed the drawing. It was ripped to pieces, which was really odd. Steve never ripped his sketches apart. Sometimes he threw them out, but never like this. Destroyed. Bucky picked up the pieces, wondering what was so bad about the drawing.

He placed the bin on the floor and began assembling the pieces. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do this, but he was simply too curious. Bucky’s hands were good for working. They could carry big and heavy things, but they weren’t good for putting small pieces together and more than once he accidentally ruined some of the pieces he had just fixed, by pushing them to the floor. “Dammit!” He muttered and picked up the pieces. He decided that taping them together would be easier, so eventually, with the help of tape and patience, he put the drawing back together. 

It was a good drawing. He knew Steve was a perfectionist and an excellent artist, but this was extraordinarily good. Why had he thrown it out? Bucky didn’t understand, until he looked closer at the sleeping man on the paper and recognized him. It was himself. Steve had drawn him? Why? A warming thought crept into his mind, maybe, just maybe..? 

No. It was unrealistic. He had probably just felt inspired or whatever. He decided to ask Steve about it in the morning, he would probably just confirm that there was no particular reason. Bucky held up the drawing, he wanted to keep it. He would ask Steve.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve had slept exceptionally bad. He had tossed and turned before eventually falling asleep at 3 am. He had dreamt about Bucky, no surprise there. But this time, Bucky was angry. He had found the drawing and he was furious. Yelling at Steve that he trusted him, that he thought they were friends. Steve woke at 5, with a dry mouth and a horrible feeling in his stomach. He got up and staggered towards the bathroom where he collapsed on the floor, dry heaving over the toilet. This was bad. Very bad. Why did he have to draw that stupid drawing?

Bucky had just fallen into a light slumber when he heard sounds coming from the bathroom. It sounded like someone was being sick. If he had been home, he couldn’t care less, but since there was only one person it could be, he got up and knocked on the door to the bathroom. “Steve?” He asked carefully.

Steve heard the knock and Bucky’s voice through the door. Shit. He hadn’t meant to wake him. He tried to gather himself and wiped his mouth before answering. “B-Bucky? I‘m fine. Just... Just go back to sleep. P-please?” He begged. If there was one thing he couldn’t handle, it was for Bucky to see him like that. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked again “Steve what’s going on?” He was worried now, Steve sounded really bad. “Steve if you don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick down the door.”

Steve cursed himself, knowing that Bucky was way too stubborn to just give up. “It’s not locked...” He muttered and rested his head on his arms, it couldn’t really get any worse than this.

Bucky opened the door and found Steve on the floor in a complete mess. He knelt down next to him “Steve? What’s going on?” He asked concerned and put a hand on his forehead. He didn’t have a fever. But why else would he be throwing up and looking so pale? 

“Nothing. Just... Nightmare” Steve said, which was technically true. “I’ll be fine, just please go back to bed.” He lied down on the floor, with his arms over his stomach. “No way Steve, you’re feeling unwell and I am not leaving you okay? You are the one who needs to go back to bed.” Bucky said firmly and brushed a strand of hair away from his sweaty forehead. “Can’t. It’s far away...” Steve mumbled. Without a word Bucky picked him up, he really didn’t weigh a lot, and carried him to his bedroom, gently lowering him down onto the bed.

“Sleep Steve” Bucky said gently. “I can’t. It will come back...” Steve really couldn’t handle another nightmare right now. “You need sleep” Bucky insisted and lied down next to him. “I’ll stay if you want me to” He promised and Steve nodded, because even though he wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t say no to having Bucky in his bed.

He began to shiver, he felt slightly cold after having lied on the bathroom floor. “Are you cold?” Bucky asked. “No” He lied; no reason to seem weaker than he already did. “Steven Rogers, you’re shivering, so yes you are cold” Bucky said and without warning he wrapped his arms around the smaller body, to try and warm him. That was the only reason. It wasn’t like he also did it as an excuse to hold Steve. No way. 

Steve was surprised at first, but soon he relaxed. It felt so good and he wondered how he could ever deserve it. If Bucky knew what he had done, he wouldn’t be here. He would have left and Steve wouldn’t ever see him again. “Sleep” Bucky said and as much as Steve knew he shouldn’t enjoy it, he did, and soon he was fast asleep.

Steve woke before Bucky the next morning; thankfully he had slept without nightmares this time. He lay for some time, just enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s arm wrapped around him and his smell surrounding him. He wanted to freeze this moment forever. Never get out of bed and just stay here with Bucky, like he had so often dreamed of. 

“Feeling better?” A raspy voice asked. Steve was startled at first, “Uhm... yes, thank you” he said, a light blush creeping up onto his face. “Sorry about last night, I didn’t want to wake you up...” He said embarrassed. “It’s really no problem, I get nightmares too you know” Bucky said and shrugged; he still hadn’t let go of Steve.

“You do?” Steve asked it had never occurred to him that a strong guy like Bucky would have nightmares. Bucky nodded, it wasn’t something he was proud of, but one thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to tell Steve what they were about.

“Do you get them often?” Steve asked, wondering why Bucky was even still there. He wasn’t sick anymore, so why would he want to be with him in his bed, holding him? “Most nights I do” He had never really been able to lie to Steve. “I’m sorry” Steve said. He only had them sometimes, once or twice a week maybe. “What are they about?”

Bucky froze. “I... I’d rather not talk about it” He said curtly. “What I do want to talk about is this” He said and pulled out the drawing from his pocket and showed it too Steve. It took a few seconds for him to realize what it was, but when he did, he felt the blood drain from his face. “Bucky... I... I can explain..”

Steve felt his breath quicken. Bucky had found it. And repaired it. Why had he done that? So he could confront Steve and tell him that it was over? Who the fuck wanted to be friends with a creep? He started sweating, even though he was only wearing an undershirt. He had told Bucky he could explain, but what could he say? You looked so perfect I had to draw you? I love you? But he said neither, he couldn’t.

He got out of Bucky’s grip “I’m so sorry Bucky... I didn’t mean too..?” But he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. So he did what he had always done with anyone else, when he had screwed up. He turned around and ran. Bucky had barely registered what had happened when he heard the front door close. Shit.

Bucky was up less than a second later, running outside the front door after Steve. He saw that his friend had been too much in a hurry to remember his jacket, idiot! It was fucking November! The sun hadn’t even risen properly! Bucky grabbed a large hoodie, before following Steve. He had no clue where to look, but he had to find him, it was crucial. “Shit, shit, shit” He muttered, deciding to go to the right.

He had been searching for at least an hour, and still no sign of his best friend. He was getting worried, really worried. What if he didn’t find him in time? What if he had hidden away? What if it would end up like in one of his nightmares? No. Bucky refused to think about that. He had to stay calm. He had to stay calm for Steve. 

He had searched through the entire area surrounding the flat, worry and fear growing for every empty street and bush. He was walking past an alleyway, trying to catch his breath when he heard it. A small, hitched breath coming from behind a dumpster. It was probably just a homeless guy, but he had to check.

Curled up next to a bunch of garbage he found his friend, lying on the ground, shaking and with lips bluer than he had ever seen. He wasted no time and ran the last few meters to the body on the ground. “Steve?” He shook him. Steve opened his eyes and looked at him. They were completely blank and he did not answer. Bucky pulled the hoodie over his head and picked him up. On the way back to the flat, Steve fainted, to weak and tired to stay conscious.

 

Steve could remember being cold. Very cold and lying on the hard ground with the smell of old trash surrounding him. But now? He felt warmer and he was definitely lying on something soft. And the smell, the smell seemed familiar. It smelt like Bucky. Bucky? He vaguely remembered his friend finding him, but after that, everything was black. Why had Bucky been there? Wasn’t he mad at him? Probably. But Bucky was a good guy. He had probably just made sure Steve wouldn’t die, before disappearing out of his life.

He slowly opened his eyes and blinked, because the light felt like daggers in his eyes. Much to his surprise, he found Bucky sitting on his bedside, watching him. But what surprised him even more, was that Bucky was crying. Bucky never cried. He had tears streaming down his face, looking straight at Steve. “If you ever do that again, I swear I’ll kill you”

“I-I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to make that drawing, it just happened... I’m so sorry, please... Please forgive me?” Now it was Steve’s turn to cry. He pulled up his legs and wrapped his arms around them. Bucky gave him a surprised look. So that was what had upset him so much! “I am not talking about the drawing you idiot! I am talking about running away! In the middle of fucking November, without a jacket! You could have died Steve!” 

Bucky was standing up now, pacing around the room. “I could have fucking lost you Steve, do you know how scared I was? What if I hadn’t found you? You would have been dead by now and I would have had to fucking bury you and you know what? That would have broken me. If you died Steve, I would have lost the only thing that matter to me. I don’t care that you drew me, I’m flattered, and you know why? Because I fucking love you!”

Steve stopped crying. Had he just said what Steve thought he had heard? He felt his emotions clash inside him. He felt shame about upsetting him, but at the same time he felt happiness he had never thought he would feel. Could it be? He had to try and compose himself; this had to be done properly.

 

Shit. Bucky had not meant to say that, it had just happened, but he knew there was no taking it back, there was no way Steve hadn’t heard what he said. And now he was just sitting there with a confused expression and Bucky couldn’t figure out what to make of it. If this went well, which it most likely didn’t, Bucky could finally open up and be honest about his feelings, but it went wrong…? When Steve didn’t start speaking, Bucky tried to come up with an excuse. “S-Steve? I’m sorry! I didn’t know what happened? I’m just... yeah... I don’t know... Sorry...”

But Steve stopped him. “Bucky, please come and sit down” He said calmly. Hesitantly Bucky moved closer and sat down on the very edge of the bed, not daring to come closer. Steve cleared his throat, “Why do you think I made that drawing?” He asked. Bucky looked at him, was now really the time to talk about that drawing again? “I don’t know? You’re an artist, you like drawing?” He tried, not being able to think of another reason. “Yes I do, but the reason I made that drawing, was because I thought you looked perfect. I have always thought you looked perfect and if you knew how many times I have dreamt about kissing you, you would probably have told me I was stupid, because how could a scrawny artist ever compare to you?”

Bucky was speechless and sat and stared at him “Are you saying…?” He asked, blushing bright red. “Bucky Barnes, will you for once in your life shut up?” Steve said teasingly, but the second later, he leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn’t possessive, it was tender and sweet and for the first time since Steve had run away, Bucky relaxed, because how many times hadn’t he dreamed about doing that? Bucky knew he would never forget this never forget the first time he kissed Steve Rogers, even though that was far from the last kiss they shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write something more on this, if I get inspired, but this is it for now, I hope you enjoyed it!^^

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this might be slightly out of character, since I have never actually watched Captain America (Even though I plan to!) But this was written for my friend iknowthatweareupsidedown, an amazing person (Who ships Stucky a lot! And has written a fic, you should totally check it out!) She is one of m really good friends and I actually had great fun writing this!
> 
> I got inspired by a drawing made by faun-songs.tumblr.com


End file.
